


Mathias and the Shōjo

by Unforged



Category: Various everythings
Genre: Friendly Ghosts, Gen, Multi, Pancakes, Slice of Life, hangovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 09:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18427328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforged/pseuds/Unforged
Summary: Mathias wakes up after a long night of drinking to find things may not be as they seem.





	Mathias and the Shōjo

The morning was an awful, awful time.

One would think that a start of a new day would be something of a…grandiose occasion. After all, the waking hour is the time in which history is made, in which memories are written from the passing of time. To be awake is to be alive, and to be alive is to be one with existence in and of itself. With this in mind, waking up should be some sort of grand ritual, should it not? To reflect the surge of opportunity that meets every alarm clock? Should it not be met with trumpets, with banging drums and crisp salutes of the utmost respect?

No. No, absolutely fucking not. Not if Jesus Christ himself wrote it down on a piece of gold-plated penguin-shit.

The morning was a terrible, terrible time, especially when your pounding head was punishing you for a night of less-than-responsible drinking.

Mathias squinted against the light that broke through his windows, the drawn shades doing their best to hold back the eye-stinging rays. Even so, a few beams practically snickered as they escaped through, knowing they would sting the demon’s eyes when he dared to try to open them any wider. When he did, lifting his heavy lids a bit as he tried to open his eyes for what had to be the fourth time, Matthias grunted in frustration and rolled away from the light, letting half of his face bury into his pillow. It smelled bad, much like the rest of him, and he instantly regretted it, even though he remained in his spot. His tail twitched lazily in the air, as it had become evident that the boxer-clad demon had kicked his blankets away in his sleep, likely much too hot due to the heat of summer.  
Maybe he could just die here, he thought for a moment. He’d be fine with that, especially with how his head felt. He could just die here, decompose, and still be absolutely, totally fine with that. It felt like someone had been hammering away at his skull-plate for the better part of the four hours he had rested that particular night, resulting in what had to be a record-shattering brainache, of proportions that no mortal could properly comprehend. Joan of Arc might have felt a little hot under the collar when she was burned at the stake, and anyone who was unfortunate enough to meet Vlad the Impaler might have experienced a little sting here and there, but they had nothing on Mathias’ headache. Because honestly? FUCK this.

For a little while, whilst birds chirped just outside his window, Mathias remained on his sweat-soaked bed, clutching at his pillow as his face scrunched up from the tightening throbs that pulsed through his head. There clearly wasn’t a god, because no loving deity would never let anyone experience this kind of hangover. As it grew worse, his spiked tail shook and wagged with greater and greater fervor, thrashing in an attempt to distract him from what had to be something trying to claw its way out of his brain. As time went on, however, it became clear that the headache didn’t have any plans to take it’s leave, nor did it seem like his tactic of shoving his face into a foul-smelling pillowcase was going to help at all. So, with a throaty grunt, Mathias hauled himself up, swinging his legs off the mattress to touch the floor, which felt as cold as sheet-ice. His movements were slow and sluggish, and it felt like he was hauling around a numb sack of meat filled with lead. That, and the sudden movement clearly wasn’t appreciated, as his head began to pulse and throb anew, making the poor boy groan and press his fingers to his temples.

Mathias simply sat on his bed for a minute or so, not really wanting to move all that much. Several times, he thought about trying to stand up, and even came close to attempting it, but always ended up remaining in his place, murmuring to himself while he massaged his forehead to sooth his pounding skull. He was hurting, he was stinky, and he was very, very hungry. And yet, he didn’t even want to move.

“Mathias! Pancakes!”

…Okay, now he really wanted to move.

Throwing his head up with a groan, almost like a child going to school, Mathias did his best to suck it up, and braced himself to stand, his hands pressing into the mattress on either side of his lips. With a deep breath and a heave, he lifted himself up, until he was able to carry himself off the bed, finally standing upright. Reaching back, he mumbled again and scratched his butt, smacking his lips only to discover that his mouth was drier than a bone. However, despite how bad he felt, he now had his motivation: Pancakes.

Specifically, Seirath’s, fluffy, delicious pancakes, likely smothered in butter. Pancakes that had been cooked to a perfect, caramel-brown hue and glazed with sweet, slurry syrup. Arguably the best flapjacks in town, likely the best in the world itself. Fat stacks of vanilla-sweet, round slices of heaven, piled high on a plate that was decorated with slices of strawberries, or maybe even blueberries, if the season was right for it. And to top it off, there might even be a coil of fluffy whipped cream, sprayed out on top and garnished with an absurdly large cherry.

Yeah, that might be worth getting up for.

With a squeaky yawn, Mathias did his best to kick himself into gear, his tail swishing as he began to stand up. His ankles clicked a bit, as did his back as he stretched it out. Now feeling limber, he reached back to scratch his bum through his boxers, departing the room with what could only be described as a zombie-like stumble.

The floor was cold against his feet, and he only found peace when his toes squished into a patch of carpeting, or a rug leading into the bathroom. That said, a cold floor wasn’t going to stop him from getting to his pancakes, and neither would the growing weight he felt on his shoulders as he felt his splitting headache return for another bout of painful throbs. Hopefully there was bacon to go with the pancakes, as only a greasy breakfast would be able to save him from his hangover. Of course, he knew that wasn’t really how it worked, but at this point, he didn’t give enough of a chocolate-covered fuck. His head was hurting and his entire body felt heavy, and his growling tummy was barking at him for food.

After staggering down the stairs like an elderly man, leaning on the railing as he groaned like the dead, Mathias detected the sounds of meat sizzling in a pan, as well as the voices of his partners. His head was still buzzing a bit as he made his way past the living room, but Seirath was clearly lamenting about one of her latest clients, and David was doing his very best to console her. As much as he felt like crap, Mathias couldn’t help but smirk at the two goofballs he called his friends, and remained silent for a moment when he finally entered the kitchen.

“She brought the book! She BROUGHT THE BOOK!”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“She wanted to act out half the scenes! IS A BAD BOOK, DAVID!”

“Look, I didn’t know she had Fifty Shades on the brain when I referred her to you! I already said I was sorry!”

“Never again. Never having sex again. Not with her, maybe not with ANYONE.”

As Seirath continued to rave and complain about what sounded like a truly horrific experience, she took her frustration out on a bowl of eggs, which was being whipped and beaten into absolute submission. She seemed a bit more prepared for the day than either David or Matthias, as she was dressed in shorts and sandals, with an orange tank-top to match. Grumbling to herself, the chubby girl snatched up a shaker of salt from the counter, sprinkling a bit in the bowl before stirring it in and dumping the contents into a pan. Turning the burner on, she turned to lean against the counter, sighing to herself as she paused her rants.

“Well, at least she wasn’t as bad as the guy I took care of last week.” David said, offering her a smile as he clutched his mug. The fluffy-haired witch sat at the table, steam rising from his cup as he went to take a sip. He, like Mathias, wore his boxers, but also had on a sky-blue bathrobe to keep him warm. Reaching over to the ceramic bowl sitting on the table’s surface, he picked up a cube of sugar, dropping it into his cup with a plop. “Did you know ifreets can light fires with their dicks? I didn’t.”

“Mine was worse!” Seirath argued. “She made me read three chapters! WHILE SPANKING HER!”

“He burned my drapes! They were NICE DRAPES, Seirath! Mom sent them to me!”

“Uh…good morning?” Mathias interjected, with a hint of hesitance. It was too damn early to jump into whatever maelstrom this was, and he hadn’t had enough coffee to play “Worst Clients Ever” with either of these two. He was here for pancakes, and he was getting his damn pancakes. When he spoke up, Seirath and David turned to face him, each with their mouth’s open to speak, likely to vie for his support in the quarrel.

However, as soon as their gazes fell upon him, they went silent, and their eyes went wide.

“I was told there were pancakes, yet I see a distinct lack of pancakes.” Mathias added, shifting his gaze from Seirath to David’s face. They both looked at him like he was crazy, but he ignored it, his headache reminding him of how little patience he had remaining. ‘For every minute there are not pancakes, I’ll destroy a city.”

“Mat, I…” David began, trailing off. “…S-sorry, we…didn’t mean to bother you.”

“Huh?” Mathias grunted, cocking a brow.

“Didn’t know you were with a client. Sorry, Mathias!” Seirath added, looking a bit to the left of him and offering a smile and a wave. He followed her line of sight, but saw only an empty space next to him.

“You were hitting the brew pretty hard last night. I didn’t think you’d be able to work! Good for you.” David said, quickly tying up his robe. “Hi, ma’am! Sorry we interrupted you two.” He continued, smiling at the same empty space.

“I didn’t take any clients! I threw up after we had the wine, and then I went to bed. What the hell are you two talking about?” Mathias insisted, pressing his fingers to his temples. “Fuuuuck, don’t be so loud, either. I feel like I’m dying.

There was another awkward pause as the three exchanged looks of puzzlement, before David set his cup aside, slowly standing up as he turned his attention to Mathias.

“So…you didn’t have a client last night?” He asked, looking genuinely concerned. His bunny slippers squeaked as he stepped passed his chair, approaching an annoyed Matthias. “At all?”

“Uhm, no?” Mathias replied, releasing his forehead. “I just told you, I threw up, and went to bed. I can’t do wine AND beer. It’s just asking for trouble.”

“Then who’s THAT?” Seirath asked, pointing next to him.

“Who is who?! What is the matter with you people?!” Mathias asked, clearly growing more frustrated. “God, are you guys STILL drunk? Or are you fucking with me to keep the pancakes to yourselves? I will not tolerate pancake fraud. I’m too hungover for it.”

There was more silence as the three of them exchanged looks of confusion and vague frustration. All three, save for David, who’s eyes blinked curiously from behind his glasses as he stared at the space next to Matt. His face turned inquisitive, before seeming to light up after the gears in his head churned and kicked. And as soon as he did, Mathias could only blink, puzzled, hungry, and impatient.

“What?” He asked.

“Mat, you don’t realize it yet, but I think you DID end up taking someone to your room last night.” David replied with a chuckle, pushing his glasses up. “You’re probably just too hungover to see her. Let me help…” He continued, raising a single digit. With a few swishes and flicks, he traced strange, erratic symbols in the air, with Mathias following along with bloodshot eyes. He was going to ask what David was doing, and even felt his mouth open to speak, but he stopped when the pounding in his head rose into a deafening crescendo.

And then, into silence.

…Well…almost silence.

With the drumming in his skull coming to an end, Mathias instinctively pressed a hand to his temple. He still felt tired, and perhaps a bit sick to his stomach, but he was fine other than all that. Or, at least, he thought he was, until a new sound replaced the rampant pounding. A smoother, lighter sound, one that you would almost miss if you weren’t actively listening for it. But Mathias could hear it quite well.

A giggle. Someone was giggling, and giggling a lot.

Right next to his ear.

Seized by surprise, Mathias jumped back with a loud gasp, and he nearly fell back on his ass as he stumbled about the linoleum. It wasn’t unwarranted, however, as he quickly became aware of a fourth person in the kitchen. A person who had been standing…no…floating right beside him.

She was a younger woman, likely no older than David. But she certainly wasn’t ALIVE like David was, since Mathias could see right through her. She was a pale figure, a bit gaunt and whispy, dressed in what appeared to be a pure, white kimono with a black sash to match. The kimono seemed to fade away into nothingness as it traveled down to where her legs should have been, revealing an empty space devoid of anything like feet or knees. Her head was framed by long, jet-black, disheveled hair, held out of her face by what looked like someone’s tie tied across her forehead. As her form bobbed and shifted in the air, almost like a plastic bag on a gentle breeze, Matias instantly recognized the transparent intruder to be a spirit. And while there was a shiver of concern, at first, that ran down his spine to make his tail thrash in fear, it was quickly dispelled by the look on her face.

Because this ghost was absolutely, incredibly, without a doubt, sloshed.

A big, loose grin was stretched across her face, a red tint to to her cheeks as she gazed drunkenly at Matthias. Even in her incorporeal state, the facets of inebriation were clear. Hell, even without legs, she appeared to be stumbling about, her sense of direction and gravity all askew and randomized. The dopey grin silently persisted as she milled about, the long, loose sleeves of her robes sliding back as her arms flailed in a slow, intoxicated manner. In both hands, she held what appeared to be bottles of booze, a beer can and a sake gourd respectively. Before Mathias could even take a breath to speak, the ghost-girl brought the gourd to her lips, and took a long, sloppy swig of whatever was inside. A few rivulets of the golden-brown sake dripped from her chin to the ground, vanishing completely before the ever made contact with the floor. With a final loud, gulp, the ghost threw her head back and blew out a triumphant belch, before almost folding in on herself in a fit of laughter, spilling her spectral alcohol this way and that as her echoey giggles and snorts filled the kitchen.

Mathias wanted to say something. He really did. He just couldn’t, and not because of shock. More due to the sheer confusion of the spectacle playing out before him. As the drunk spirit continued to laugh and snort and chuckle, spilling non-existent liquid in her fit, David let out his own chuckle, before gesturing to her.

“I thought as much!” He said.

“What did you think? What IS that?” Came Matthias’ reply, his eyes locked onto the ghost. She floated towards him, a move that made him flinch even if he didn’t feel any malicious intent wafting from her. The ghost teasingly stuck her tongue out at him, before going in for another swig.

“It’s a ghost! A shōjo, specifically.” David replied, stepping closer to inspect. “They’re a kind of yokai, basically embodiments of revelry and parties. But mostly, they’re spirits tied to beer and wine. Anything that can get you drunk, really. They’re harmless, for the most part, feeding off positive energy from people who’re drunk.”

“Gross.” Mathias replied, trying to shoo her away.

“Actually, I think she’s pretty cute.”

“IS cute!” Seirath chimed in, leaning on the counter. She grinned teasingly, her English still a bit choppy. “Lucky man, Matty! Did you take your new girlfriend to bed with you~?”

“He probably did without realizing it. Shōjos like to stick around drunkards for as long as they can, then they’ll scuttle off to mind someone else plastered enough.” Said David. “She probably wandered in last night after you started really knocking it back. You WERE the one drinking the most, after all!”

“Well, I’m not drunk anymore, so it’s time for her to go.” Said an annoyed Mathias. He swiped at the ghost as she began to poke at his horns, only for his hand to pass right through. He tried again, only making her giggle more as she shifted behind him to bat at his thrashing tail, like a drunken kitten. With a sigh, Mathias rubbed his face, grumbling to David. “Any way to get rid of her, or is this just my life now?”

“Oh, they’re easy to get rid of. Hold on, just a sec.” David replied, holding up his finger. Reaching for his staff, which was leaning against the table, David sauntered over to the giggling geist, which was now pinching at and smooshing Mathias’ cheeks. Gingerly, he hooked the end of the staff around her sash, gently pulling the drunk ghost away from Mathias, and out of the kitchen.

“Follow me, miss!” David said with a smile. The shōjo didn’t even protest, and even let out a garbled “Wheeee!” as the young witch dragged her towards the door like a puppy on a leash. Opening it, he unhooked his staff from her, and politely urged her out. She floated past the doorframe and out the door, still chortling and drinking as she went. With that, the ghost vanished into the morning air, and David waved good-bye before closing the door again.

“There we go!” David said, returning to the kitchen and dusting off his hands. He crooked his staff against the table again, before sitting down. “I told you! Nice and easy.”

“She’s not gonna come back, is she?” Mathias asked as he too sat down. Seirath passed by with a plate, pecking his cheek with a kiss while David shook his head.

“Probably not. She got everything she needed from you, so she’s probably gonna go find someone else.”

“God, don’t say it like that. Eugh.”

“In any case, you’re kind of lucky! Shōjos are actually pretty rare, you know. Besides, there’s worse things to wake up to.” David remarked. At that, Mathias rolled his eyes, but blinked when Seirath passed behind him again. This time, the plate was loaded up with pancakes. A stack of three, fluffy, golden-brown pancakes, drizzled with syrup and decorated with a frosting of whipped cream. And in the center, a cluster of fat, red strawberries, the sight of which drew a warm half-smile to Mathias’ tired face. Seirath set the platter down before him, using a fork to flick a few sausages from a pan onto his plate.

“…Yeah. But I’d rather wake up to this.” He said, taking up his fork and knife. He cut himself a small triangle, wiping it in a puddle of butter and syrup before bringing it to his mouth.

The morning was an awful, awful time.

But pancakes made it worth it.


End file.
